I am in the most annoying one of my lifetime. Around nine o’clock, I take to the couch with full intention of watching a movie, sometimes new and sometimes old.
(I rewatched Fargo a few nights ago and its staying power is intact. Thanks Marge Gunderson.)
But most other nights I’m sound asleep in ten minutes. We got this new couch and it defies anyone to sit upright longer than five minutes. You sit, then you lean, then you shift and then you’re in rapid eye movement. The only reason I woke up last night to move myself from the couch to my bed was that a piece of mixed media artwork I recently bought fell off its hook. Scared the F outta me. The crashing sound was one thing but the thought of damaging my piece was what got me off the sleep trap.
End result: no damage. Got into bed around 10:00 and as per usual up like a lark at 6:00 AM. The 6:00 AM rise and shine has to stop. I get up, walk the dog, have coffee (1) make the bed, shower and sometimes shave then have some fruit and yogurt, make sure all my artwork is level and secure, a little light dusting and glass cleaning and voila … it’s 7:30 AM and I’m ready for lunch. It’s simply exhausting.
Back in the day, my sleep patterns were buffered by mind altering substances, but those days have sadly disappeared. I even tried having a glass of wine with my dinner last night since eating alone is sad enough of a look. Guess what’s sadder? Drinking a glass of wine alone. I think I had two sips and it was ruining the taste of my perfectly prepared chicken so that was it. Two sips out of a brand new bottle.
Sad, right? You reach retirement age and you’ve got all the time in the world to do things that used to get you in trouble and the kicker is you have no desire to do them whatsoever. My liver’s never been cleaner. Oh and since my anti-depressants killed my appetite for cigarettes, my lungs are in marathon shape. Now I do pop a Cheech and Chong gummy now and then but that just gets me in bed even earlier. Then I’m up at 4:00 AM and the day seems like a month. I read a little, write a little, do some arithmetic with my checking account and then what … NADA!
I once had a serious love affair with Ambien, partly because my bedroom was directly across from the Midtown Tunnel but now they just sit in their bottle rotting away. They’re completely useless to me. So what do I do? I thought of what sort of part-time job starts at 4 and ends by 8. I came up with the role of Sidewalk Sally. Is 65 too old? Is anyone even in the mood at that hour? I gotta address this sitch soon!